The Pianist in the Mall
by Silamy
Summary: "A small boy, perhaps two or three years old, looked back up at him with some of the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen." A stranger encounters a young Remus Lupin in a muggle mall.


AN: A brief one, or possibly twoshot about an encounter with a stranger that Remus Lupin had not long after he was bitten. As always, criticisms are welcome, nay, requested.

* * *

Michael Jones felt something tugging on his shirt, but ignored it. He'd been hired to play piano to "assist the store's ambience" and screwing up mid-piece wouldn't help him. Finishing, he looked back to where the tug had some from. A small boy, perhaps two or three years old, looked back up at him with some of the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen.

"Excuse me, sir," the child began, a bit timidly, and Michael instantly reevaluated his guess on the boy's age. Toddlers generally didn't speak that clearly or politely. Realizing that he was waiting anxiously for a response, he shut off his internal musing.

"Yes?" he smiled kindly, attempting to show that he hadn't been at all disturbed by the interruption.

"I'm sorry to innerup you," he continued, and Michael swallowed a grin with difficulty. The child had one of the most serious faces he'd ever seen, and he didn't want to hurt his feelings by not taking him seriously. "but the music was just so pretty, and, and…" he faltered, clearly not having managed to think much past that.

Michael smiled. He knew that he was fairly talented, but something about small children liking the music he managed to bring to the world always made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. "I'm glad you liked it," he said sincerely. What he said next was wild impulse –something about the way the child was looking at him with something akin to hero worship made him add the next sentence. "Would you care to try?"

The blue eyes somehow got even wider. "Oh, _could_ I?" He'd been about to try and rescind the offer, but it would have taken someone made of much sterner stuff to crush the look of hopeful, fearful delight that had spread across the child's face.

"Of course, but you'll have to treat the piano gently." The boy nodded enthusiastically. "Do you mind sitting on my lap? I'm not sure you'll be able to reach the keys if you don't." The boy shook his head, so he reached out to pick the child up. As soon as he touched his torso, the child cried out. "What's wrong?"

The boy looked down, apparently humiliated. "There was –a big doggy –really big –and it –it bited me." He looked up, bashfully. "I'm sorry."

Michael shook his head, trying to reassure him. "It wasn't your fault. I'm sorry for hurting you –I didn't mean to. Are you alright?" At the nod of confirmation, he asked, "Where were you bitten? If it's okay with you, I'm going to try and pick you up again, but I'd like to know so I don't accidentally hurt you." The child nodded.

"Here." He traced a finger in a narrow arc starting just beneath his right arm, and Michael stifled a gasp. Assuming that the child was being honest, it was amazing he was alive. The poor little fellow probably had some broken or cracked ribs, and if he hadn't had any internal damage, it was nothing short of a miracle. The child looked back up at him, and he caught a flash of something in his eyes. Pity would not be well received.

"Alright. The safest way to pick you up looks to be by your arms. Brace yourself." The boy stiffened obediently, and Michael swallowed a chuckle. It seemed that being a musician automatically made him a trustworthy authority. The child cried out when he was lifted, but he was soon securely settled. "Now, what's your favorite song?"

The boy looked at him expectantly. "Eight little kneazles," he answered promptly. When Michael looked at him in confusion, his face fell. "Mummy sings that to me sometimes." _A family thing. Of __course__that's his favorite song_. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that. But have you heard this?" He played a little bit of the melody of _Twinkle, twinkle, little star_, and child frowned, before his face suddenly cleared with a look of amazed delight.

"I've heard that one! It's by someone named Mo- ummm… Mo-bart! " Keeping a straight face at that was one of the more difficult things Michael had had to do in his life, until it suddenly sunk in that not only did the child not know one of the best known children's songs, he knew it because he recognized it from eighteenth century classical music. "Very good, ummm –I'm afraid I don't know your name."

"I'm Remus. Remus John Lupin." Remus seemed very proud of his name –he straightened up as he said it, though he instantly winced, holding a hand to his chest. _Poor little fellow. Stoic though. _

Michael grinned. "Well, then, Remus John Lupin, I'm Michael Jones. Now, let's see you try." Remus looked up at him, eyes wide, then at the piano, then back at him.

"Really?" His face was practically glowing.

"Have at it, but remember, _be_ _gentle_." He was expecting an instant racket, and braced himself, but to his surprise, Remus tentatively reached out and stroked one key, pressing it down softly, letting out a soft 'Oh' when it made a sound. Then with a look of intense concentration on his little face, he carefully reached out and played back what Michael had, with almost no mistakes. "Impressive!" Remus started at Michael's hearty compliment.

"I didn't play it right, though." He seemed incredibly disappointed, and Michael realized with a jolt that either he'd made it look incredibly easy, or the boy was a perfectionist. Possibly both.

"You played it a lot better than I did when I first tried, and I was a lot older than you are. I think you've got a gift for this, Remus."

His face lit up. "Could you –could you teach me to do what you did earlier –with two hands?" The blue eyes were focused on him with a look of hopeful expectation. This was evidently a child who loved music.

Before Michael could answer him, though, a woman's voice pierced the air. "Oh, Remus, _there_ you are! We've been looking all over for you. Why did you wander off?" Before either of them could say anything, she turned to Michael and began apologizing. "I'm so sorry he disturbed you –I hope he wasn't rude –we were in the train shop when he decided he didn't want to hold my hand, and I didn't know _where_ he'd gone." She turned back the way she'd come, and waved her hand. "John!" she called, "He's over here."

"Mummy, this is Mr. Jones. He's my friend. He's been showing me how to play piano." Remus looked childishly smug as he said this, and his mother looked mortified.

Before she could say anything, he decided that humoring Remus was probably the best thing anyone could do in this situation. "That's right. Remus, will you show your mummy what you can do?" As Remus frowned at the keys again, Michael looked up at Mrs. Lupin and smiled. "It's been a pleasure. You've got a talented son, and his manners are impeccable." She looked relieved, but before she could say anything, Remus carefully pressed the keys for _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_ again. He'd apparently been paying attention to his mistakes last time, since he'd managed not to repeat most of them.

A young man of medium height ran over to join them. "Remus, what were you thinking?!" He turned to Michael. "I'm so sorry he bothered you –I hope he wasn't rude." They both looked incredibly anxious, and Michael stifled a chuckle. Apparently Remus' manners had been carefully taught.

"He was no trouble at all, Mr. Lupin, Mrs. Lupin, I assure you. His manners are impeccable, and he seems to be a fan of music, so I asked him if he'd care to try playing something. You've got a very gifted son. Have you considered letting him study music?"

Remus looked hopefully up at his parents, "_Could_ I? Please?"

Michael watched as Mr. and Mrs. Lupin exchanged glances, clearly conversing. "Remus, why don't you and your mother go over to the instrument store we passed on the way in? I'll catch up to you in a moment."

Remus instantly hopped down, a tad stiffly, and took his mother's hand. "C'mon, mummy!" She followed him, laughing.

"Remus, no running inside," she scolded mildly.

"Thank you." Michael's attention was quickly diverted.

"I mean it, sir, he was no trouble at all, and he does have talent." He was a bit puzzled by Mr. Lupin's reaction –the man seemed almost close to tears.

"Not about that –well, for that too, I suppose." He took a deep breath. "He was sitting on your lap –I assume that means you know about the bite?"

Michael nodded. "If the bite was where he said it was, it's a miracle he's moving around so quickly."

Mr. Lupin looked down. "It's exactly where he probably said it was –if he hadn't heard the dog moving and turned when he did, he would probably be dead by now. It was my fault he got bitten –there's a man in our neighborhood with a huge, vicious monster of a dog that he lets run loose –I spoke to him about it, and he threatened Remus –set the dog on him not long after that. Many of our neighbors are afraid of Remus now –the dog was sick, as it happens, and he passed it on to Remus –if that wasn't enough, the bite got infected. We're –we're not sure how long he has left –he's been losing weight, he can't summon the strength or will to do much of anything –we came here today hoping we'd see something he'd take interest in –we were in the model shop –he used to love those –when he must have heard you playing. What you've done –you've made him happier than he's been since he was bitten –I haven't seen him summon up that much enthusiasm or energy for anything since then. If there is anything at all –_anything_ we can ever do to repay you…" reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a card. "I'm John, and my wife's name is Emma. Please, don't hesitate. You've given us back our son. There is nothing we could give you that could ever show our gratitude completely."

Michael never did figure out how it happened, but before he could demure, the card was in his pocket, and John Lupin was gone. He had pretty much dismissed the family as a figment of his imagination, when looking out the window, he saw a small boy with big blue eyes on the street waving at him. He waved back. _Nice folks. I hope Remus is alright._


End file.
